Bewitched, Bothered, Bewildered
by TotalOtaku07
Summary: A take on the famous song, specifically the version by Sinead O'Connor; except this time, Chiaki is feeling what Nodame should be feeling.
1. Bewildered

Story 1: Bewildered

Story 1: **Bewildered**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own this series. I'm just a fanatic (ehem) a fan, I mean.

**x x x x x**

He picked up his trousers from the floor and wondered how it got there. Ah, well, it's her after all. He couldn't get angry just now because he is tipsy happy bordering on drunkenly giddy. And he was the one who had failed to keep his promise.

Throwing the ruddy trousers aside, he sat almost too daintily at the side of the bed, glancing at the lump under the stale covers.

She must have been disappointed. She must have cried. But he hoped against all hope that she didn't act weird and had played as superbly as always with her unwavering fervor.

He never used to care. She is, at most times, annoying. Until now, he can't figure out what made him help her out of that dismal garbage-filled room of hers. Oh yes, the stink was unbearable and her goo was actually leaking into his apartment. But he could have easily brushed it off and let someone else be troubled by it. Once he entered that torture place, she had caught him and never let go. And from then on, his life had been a series of strange (and wondrous) events, one after the other.

_What should he say just now?_

_Sorry?_

He doesn't owe anything to this girl, this creature (a self-delusion, of course or just plain pride). And she does not owe anything from him either. She had worked hard to get to where she is now. She learned a foreign language, she learned how to aspire for better things (if this is what you'd think of performing on the same stage with her Chiaki-sempai), and even changed her routine from every three days washing of hair to every other day.

_Ahhh… what he is feeling is so troublesome._

One.

Two.

Three.

He jumped over her, and the bed creaked violently.

"Mukyaaaaaa!!"

"I'm sorry, Megumi-chan".

That night, on her bed (formerly his), their roles were somehow reversed. She listened as he talked like an absorbed child about meeting Viera-sensei, about him being asked to Italy, and all those brilliant memories. Nothing can be more wonderful, except perhaps, the fact that she wasn't angry. Astonishingly, she did not cry because he wasn't there on her first salon performance. And despite his shortcoming, she had listened to his every word, until he fell asleep, smiling and smelling her not-so-bad scent on the sheets.

He was so happy in his sleep that he forgot about his dream of being a gigolo and Nodame being his "madame".

**x x x x x**

"Riiiinnngg – riiiinnnnggg", her cellphone sounded off, which was odd so early in the morning.

"Allo? Oh, Robert-san! Merci beucoup, I'm perfectly fine.."

_Robert?!_

"If Nodame knew you would see her bra, I would have worn something nicer…"

_Bra?! What the --?!_

He was about to knock her head with a baguette, when she stood up.

"Anou, Chiaki-sempai, I'm running late for school".

"I'll see you later!", she said, walking hastily with a carelessly wrapped / covered / dumped natto in her hands.

_That girl --?!_

When did she have the nerve to run away from him like that?!; that girl: as unpredictable as ever, quietly forcing him to care, wordlessly asking him to stay by her side. Of course, she never failed to annoy, horrify, amaze, and astound him, but more than these, was his surprise over his own reaction.

And the thoughts came nagging:

_Chiaki, you have kissed her after all…_

_You have asked her to come to Paris with you…_

_You two are almost like living together – like that husband and wife thing you so hate._

He had acknowledged that such and such had happened and some things are inevitable (since he is already inside the Weirdo Forest). Still, he can't help but feel rather –

-- bewildered.

**x x x x x**

not sure whether it's Robert or Roger; and please excuse my French


	2. Bothered

Story 2: Bothered

Story 2: **Bothered**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own this series; err—Gyabo! (wahhhhh)

**x x x x x**

What is she doing? Is she doing that ghost / monster / swamp thing / garbage woman routine again? She kept missing his calls. For quite some time now she hadn't called about dinner.

He wanted to stop calling. He squished his pillow into a ball, but he kept thinking about her, not really that concerned (or maybe a little) but more like jealous that she had more time for her studies and her music than time to take his calls.

_One last call; just one more…_

One, two, three, four rings… _dammit!_

"Allo?" her voice suddenly came through the line, popping into his consciousness.

"Allo, Chiaki-sempai? You miss me?" she asked.

"Idiot! Where have you been?!" he shouted beside himself, extremely relieved, and annoyed.

"Oh, I've just been at Tonya's, she cooked for me".

"Who told you to eat on your own?" he exploded, not believing he sounded so childish.

"Ne—Chiaki-sempai is mad because Nodame did not have dinner with him?"

Sigh_. So troublesome, this girl_.

"Ahh.. Chiaki-sempai, guess what? Auclair-sensei called me Megumi today!" she replied, with obvious delight, as always resilient to his rather hurtful words.

"Really?"

"Hai. I'm now a certified graduate from the title of Baby-chan! Isn't it great?!"

"Well, then let's go out"

"Eh--? But I've already had dinner, Chiaki-sempai should learn to be more independent since Nodame is not around anymore.."

(Tick) _This girl?!_

"And besides, Nodame has to practice tonight.. it doesn't mean that because I'm not a baby anymore I don't have any homework.." she continued.

"If you don't like it then I'll just ask someone else for dinner", he resigned.

"Gyabooo!! Okay, Chiaki-sempai, I'll just get my shoes, and my bag, what color of underwear you want me to wear?!"

"Chiaki-sempai always wrong in timing, my underwear don't match again this time…"

He can imagine her pout that he's really annoyed at but he also misses. He can only sigh.

"Tch. Shut up. I won't go out tonight."

"Huuuooohhh, but Chiaki-sempai might call up someone to entertain him in his apartment, it should be Nodame then.."

"I said beat it. Just practice your piano, I'm getting sleepy anyway"

"Hai. I'm sorry I didn't come to your performance last night. Nodame is very busy".

"Yeah, it's okay. Goodnight", he said as he hung up, before she said _je 'taime_ again. He might just cry in frustration and rush to her apartment (?!).

She had certainly grown up. That comment she had made about him learning to be more independent should be just accurate. She's not just gifted anymore, she's magnificent. She's not the only one he's missing, but also her music, those hands…

From a scraggly-stinky duckling to a not-so-graceful swan… he suppressed a chuckle.

… a swan that can fly away anytime.

_Is this why he's so bothered about being away from her?_


	3. Bewitched

Story 3: Bewitched

**Story 3:** Bewitched

**Disclaimer:** I can draw… sticks; but no mangaka here. Therefore, I don't own this series (??) Huuuoohhh… I can write! (sort of).

**x x x x x**

Chiaki woke up with the faint music echoing in the room. This is uncommon most days; especially this season of cold winter mornings and adventurous nights. The sheets are crisp; almost too clean for his taste, but he prefers this over how things were before: overflowing laundry, scattered stale underwear everywhere, old noodles left at the kitchen counter, and cold miserable (horrible) curries.

He scratched his head, the clock beside the bed only said seven fifteen in the morning; absolutely uncommonly early for her to be up and awake and dandy enough to play the piano. But he's getting used to such eccentricities; after all, she can be as unpredictable as a thunderstorm during summer time.

He walked out of the bedroom, still in his pajamas and went straight to the kitchen, where breakfast of French bread, omelettes with cream cheese and bell peppers are already laid. Some mornings, she'd be too engrossed in playing that she'd forget the toast, and he'll wake up with the smell of burning bread or bacon or metal (pots) or wood (spatula). Of course, he can't be too angry. He'll only strain himself because she'll be as unaffected as always, would just wave at him and show that pout when he starts displaying his sour demeanor.

This morning, it's Beethoven's Sonata No.8 in C minor; Pathetique. The initial impression with the piece would be quite melancholy, but as it progresses, the notes become more defined, as they go to forte and as the tempo reaches the peak, then fades away to how it started. It's a piece that is just so hard to appreciate since it is not as grand and as colorful as some of Beethoven's other works. And it's hard to picture her playing it; just like when she struggled with that piece of Schubert.

Chiaki closed his eyes, felt the cold floor beneath his feet and listened to the sounds made by her fingers playing across the keys. He liked her best when she plays; when it seemed that the world just revolved around her and that piano. He opened his eyes and devoured the silhouette she made with the early morning sunlight and the drapes.

Those annoying but wonderful lips forming that mischievous pout; the face showing nothing but pure delight, those shoulders swaying with every note she made as if they are completely detached from but still part of her. Seeing her like this beats the best he liked about her (which are very few, considering, but enough to make him stay there on the spot, just staring at her).

What's so captivating about this sonata is the ending; you can't really tell when it is.

"Hmm… you're up early Chiaki-sempai.." she slanted her head to the left looking at him.

"Tch. You woke me up. Can't you play a little less noisy?" he replied, shaking off the spell she had cast over him moments ago.

"Ahh… you shouldn't be so grim so early, ne? How about this?!" she teased, and then launched into an almost too lively performance.

It's a Mozart; Twinkle Twinkle Little star variations.

"Oi! Don't be too enthusiastic!" he shouted with very little eagerness as he had intended.

Then she started singing and humming to the tune… "La-la-la-la.. little star.. lala-lala-la-you are.."

_This girl? She doesn't even know the words._ He suppressed a giggle building up, and just looked at her shoulders bobbing up and down, her hair, now almost reaching down to the middle of her back swaying side to side.

If it's music she just forgets everything. Later on, she would complain of lower back pain and "tummy cramps", yet she still go at it every time, giving it her all, as she always does in everything in her life; in their life.

_That little guy must be pretty stressed-out in there_, he thought, his gaze following the contour of her growing belly. She finds it harder and harder to play everyday; but well, nothing can stop her. She'd told him that little Sinichi-kun is very vigorous when she plays piano; and had rhapsodized about forming a family orchestra; not a quartet or any band with less than eight members, but an orchestra. _She is just impossible_.

Mozart finished with the last note echoing against the walls of their small apartment and as he called her for breakfast.

"Hmm… Sinichi, what do you want to name baby-kun?"

"Eh--?" he'd thought about it but never came up with a definite name.

"What about you?" he asked back.

"Hmm… Milch!"

_Milch?!_

"Ehehe.. isn't it nice? I got it from Milch; he's your sensei after all; and it has a nice sound; don't you think?"

"_Idiot! What kind of name is that?! Why do you want to name our first child after that perverted old freak?!" he glared at her and slapped her with a baguette. And she said: "GYaboOoo!!"_

But of course, he didn't do this; her being in a condition. Instead, he remained gaping at her, with a disconcerted / unbelieving / astounded look.

_She's just so.. so.. impossible?? (can't find any other words)_

But staying with her, protecting her, understanding her weird ranting, and listening to her music, just seem to be all worth it. Glancing at her occasionally, being annoyed at how messy she still eats, he can't help but be bewitched.

Maybe he's just mellowed out. Or maybe it's just that "love" thing.

**x x x x x**

**x x x x x**

_This is the last one; still waiting for other fics to come. _

_Mukya!!_


End file.
